Skinny Love
by Not Just A Reader - A Fangirl
Summary: Skinny love: when two people are in love but do not admit it. Well, that's exactly the situation they were in right now.


**A/N: Hii! Okay first off I am so sorry for not posting in a while (although I know there are fanfiction writers who have taken a break longer than mine). It's just that lately there's sort of been a writer's block, and my writing didn't feel entirely that good... So the Twin Exchange June Monthly Challenge didn't work out. Still working on that fic though so don't lose hope!**

**Second, yes, I am aware that there is another definition for skinny love. But let's ignore that.**

**Third, this fic was written and finished a while ago, but I wasn't happy with it - still not happy with it now - but I thought I should post ****_something_**** to say sorry for not posting in so long.**

**Anyway, this note is getting way too long, so enjoy the story!**

* * *

"Good evening, Hermione."

The addressed young woman turn to the suave voice the had greeted her. Her heart leaped and plunged at the same time. It was him. She tensed, though she was subtle about it. Now was not a good time for him to talk to her. The university student studying for a Doctorate at Cambridge that had walked out of his room this morning as she walked out of hers had set the day to be a bad one, even before this stupid ball started.

"Good evening," she replied, putting on a smile for politeness' sake.

"You know, I really didn't expect you to be here…"

"Well, it is a ball to commemorate the end of the War, so you should have known I'd be here." She inwardly cringed at the curtness of her tone.

An elegant male eyebrow lifted a millimetre.

"What I was going to say, before you cut me off," he said, and Hermione wanted to slap herself for being so stupid. She gave him an apologetic smile, although if he was angry, he didn't show it. "Is that I didn't expect you to be here and yet remain still free of reporters and whatnot begging for an autograph or a quote."

"I suppose. But it has been five years."

"True."

The conversation ceased, neither of them really knowing what to say now. Hermione knew she had several things she wanted to say to him, of course, but those were things she will never say to him, because she knew what would happen if she did.

"Have you come with anyone?" Hermione asked, feeling that that topic, at least, was close enough to polite, far enough from personal, and close enough to what she wanted to say to bring up to the conversation.

"No. Have you?"

"No."

Once again, silence settled over them, and this time, it was beginning to become awkward.

"Come on, love, the formality is killing me." He mockingly scrunched up his face - in a way, Hermione noted, that made it look adorable.

"How would you prefer it then?"

"Well, how about…"

But just then, a curvy young brunette in a V-necked scarlet ball gown that showcased her voluptuous bosom sashayed up to him, and leant into him, pressing her entire body against him. Hermione pressed her lips together and looked away from the sight of Romilda Vane whispering into his ear - no doubt something lewd and risqué as to what could potentially happen later that night after the ball - and snatched a glass of red wine from a tray held aloft by a passing waiter.

God knows she would need it.

Taking a sip, she saw from the corner of her eye Romilda walking away, though not before sending him a suggestive smile and a wink. Her stomach twisted at his responding smirk.

"So how many ladies is she," Hermione nodded at Romilda's creamy, retreating back, exposed by the almost-not-there-at-all cut of the back of her dress, "joining on your rotating schedule of paramours tonight?"

"Quite a few actually."

Her stomach could sink lower, so it did. She flicked her eyes to her wine glass, which was held aloft so that it was level with her face. She moved her arm so that it was partially covering her face from his eyes.

"Any chance I could make it onto that list?" Her tone was joking, mocking even, but she was dead serious. She let her gaze move past the wine glass to his face.

He considered her for less than a second, then answered.

"No."

She let her pain flicker in her eyes for just a second, her eyebrows creasing gently, then flicked her gaze back to the wine glass.

* * *

He wanted to punch himself in the stomach.

He regretted saying no so quickly and decisively, now that his chest was aching from the hurt he saw in her eyes. He should have thought, should have known that she would be upset enough already, what with talking to Romilda so intimately right in front of her, and declaring that he would be sleeping with "a few" women tonight. Of course this would only add fuel to the fire.

But what was he talking about? She doesn't know.

And she doesn't feel the same.

So then, what was the flash of pain in her eyes about?

He's confused. But still, he explained.

* * *

"You're not someone who would be on a roster of paramours," he said, as she took a sip to avoid his eyes. "You're someone who would be in a relationship, an honest, long-lasting one, with a man who loves you and deserves you."

She considered him, looking into his luminous eyes, and he stared right back.

She drained her glass in one breath, cringing as the liquid burned her throat, but enjoying its scorch. She placed the empty glass onto another passing tray, then turned to him.

"One dance." She only allowed herself a modicum of vulnerability in her voice. "That's all I ask."

* * *

She sounds so vulnerable, her eyes so insistent, he was having a hard time saying no again.

One dance? No more?

But it was more than he could have hoped for.

* * *

"Of course," he smiled and offered his hand gallantly. She took it, and he led her through the crowd to the dance floor, where a number of couples were already gathered for the next piece. They took their place, and the orchestra took up the music again.

It was a slow song, a wizarding one that Hermione didn't know, but found herself enjoying as his hand rested on her waist, and she felt the defined muscles of his shoulder under her left hand, and the warmth of his hand seeped into her right. He spun them around the dance floor expertly, his background evidently giving him the knowledge of how to properly dance without treading on the lady's foot. They swirled in time with the other couples, making a turning cogwheel of dancers on the dance floor.

The music flowed and swelled, and at a euphoric rush of lilting melody, they parted, though their joined hands stayed so, and he swirled her around and around and around, faster and for longer than necessary. She felt a thrill course through her as she pirouetted, as if she was being spun into a momentary place of bliss and ecstasy.

Even though they barely had enough time to get back into dancing position after spinning for just half a second too long, the movement was smooth and flowing. But the rapid transition ended up with their bodies pressed together so tightly all sense of decorum and propriety went down the drain.

And Hermione didn't think it was accidental.

* * *

He inwardly berated himself when he felt her stiffen against him. He seemed to be not thinking at all tonight - or at least, not around her. He definitely wasn't thinking just then; in a mind blank, he had pulled her flush against him, because he was going crazy with the partial press of their body as they were dancing before, having only so much, no more, not enough.

He didn't say sorry, though, because as much as he was regretting this, he was enjoying it, too.

He wasn't sure she wasn't either.

* * *

She wasn't sure what she was thinking right now. She wasn't sure what she_ should _be thinking right now. He didn't loosen his hold on her or apologise. She looked away, to a point over his shoulder, and swallowed, desperately trying not enjoy the feeling of every contour of his body pressed right up against hers.

"To convert that Muggle saying," she said, glad that her voice came out steady. Well, as steady as it could get. "If someone puts you on a high horse you know you can't ride, you're going to fall far." She turned her head away from him, hiding her face from his gaze. "And hard."

He was silent for a long time.

* * *

What was that supposed to mean?

What was the Muggle saying she was referring to? High horse, high horse….Oh right, what was it - Those who ride high horses have far to fall. It means if you set your expectation too high, you're going to be disappointed.

So what she was saying…means if someone sets your expectations up…for something you know can't…happen…you're going to be disappointed.

But he wasn't getting her hopes up for anything…

* * *

"I don't believe I'm setting your expectations up for anything," he said finally. She looked down at their feet, still moving in rhythm across the dance floor, and smiled a small wry smile.

"Of course you don't."

The song ended, and they parted. Instead of curtsying to their partner like the other ladies were, she stood staring at him, with his eyes staring right back. Finally, she gather up her courage, took his face into her hands, and pressed her lips to his. She allowed herself a small, soft kiss before pulling back, smiling a soft, rueful smile but not daring to look into his eyes, and walked away.

* * *

She Apparated onto the front step of her residence, hoping that he had not followed her. She quickly opened the door and walked upstairs to her room. She took off the skirt of her multi-segmented gown, and walked over to her wardrobe to hang the skirt onto the hanger dangling on the handle.

With her back to the door, she didn't realise he was in her room until the very last second, when she heard his footsteps behind her just before his front was pressed against her back.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, as his arms circled her waist.

"Why are you here?"

"Answer my question."

"Answer mine."

He paused for a moment.

"You know," he said, his breath blowing softly on her hair. "You won't fall off the horse, if the person who put you there is there with you, showing you how to ride it."

She spun around, not daring to believe. The metaphor wasn't completely exact - then again, neither was hers - but right now it was a flare of hope in a sea of darkness for her. He let her spin around, his arms loosening from her waist, and they stared at each other, Hermione not daring to say a word. They were both taking deep breaths; she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Don't mess with me."

"I'm not."

"You'd better not be."

"Why would I be messing with you?"

"Because I've just bared my feelings to you, and I've wanted this for years, and I'm vulnerable, and I would not hesitate at all to believe it…"

That was all he needed.

He crashed into her, his body pressing her hard against the wardrobe door as his lips found hers, and he kissed her with all the passion he had been desperately holding back. She was shocked, but recovered quickly; she was too far gone, taken back into the place of euphoria she had visited as she swirled on the dance floor to contemplate what was happening and the consequences. She kissed back just as passionately, pouring all her hidden feelings into his lips. Their bodies were pressed tight, every curve, every contour pressed intimately into each other; and yet their arms were wrapped around each other, trying to get closer and closer, if that was even possible at all.

When they pulled away, they were both panting. Their faces were so close that the air was warm from their breaths, and the tips of their noses were touching, and Hermione was certain that there was not enough oxygen in that two-centimetre space of air for both of them.

"Still think I'm fooling you?"

Hermione smiled, her head dropping so that her forehead rested against his.

"I suppose not."

He turned his head, tucking his face into the crook of her neck, and starting placing butterfly kisses there. She let out a sigh and rolled her head back, allowing him more space.

"You are dominating the rotating schedule of paramours," he murmured against her soft skin.

Hermione froze.

How could she have been so stupid? She knew this was coming. How could she have foolishly fallen for his deceiving words?

She pushed him hard, and he stumbled back, his eyes wide and confused.

"Hermione…?"

"I knew it."

"Hermione, what…?"

"Is that all I am to you?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes. "Just another addition to your endless list of lovers-for-a-night?"

"Hermione…"

"Of course it is! I'm just another toy in your toy box, one that is _lucky _enough to be played with more often. I should have seen this coming."

"Hermione, please…"

"You know why I didn't tell you before now?" She was nearly yelling by now. "Because I knew this would happen. I knew that all it would do is add me onto your entourage, and just hurt me. You know what?"

He had given up trying to speak by now.

"You think I don't notice the girls that jump in and out of your bed," she said bitterly, "but I do. My room is across the hallway to yours, and I _know_. I've seen them come and go, and I've noticed them. I've noticed that _they are all like me_. They're either the smart, college-attending types, or they have bushy, curly brown hair, or they're short and just slightly chubby. They are all like me, and yet the one person they all add up to, the one who's been here all this time, you've never even given as much as a glance."

She fell silent, slightly out of breath.

"Can I talk now?" he asked.

She scrunched her eyebrows together, but didn't say anything.

"You know why I have a type?" he started. "Because I wanted you. All those girls I brought into my bed, they were because of you. I knew I couldn't have you, so I tried to get you out of my system by sleeping with all of those girls who were like you."

_Oh_.

"I thought they would help me get over you, forget about you, but they didn't."

"Why did you want to forget me?"

"Because…because I knew I couldn't have you, so why keep pining? It's just going to hurt."

"Why would you think you couldn't have me?"

At that, his eyes, which have been staring intently into hers, shifted.

"Well, you'd never have me," he said.

She took a step closer to him.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, why would a brilliant, wonderful young witch like you want to have anything to do with me?"

"Well, I'm staying in your house, aren't I?" she said, placing her hand on his arm. "Would I have agreed to that if I didn't want anything to do with you? Which sparks the question, by the way; if you wanted to get rid of me, why didn't you just kick me out?"

"Who ever said I wanted to get rid of you?" he smiled. She smiled back, and wrapped her arms around him, resting her face on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her as well, placing his chin on the top of her head.

"Don't you ever think I don't want anything to do with you," she whispered. "I've loved you for so long, I've wanted to tell you for so long. I've just never been able to."

"You should have," he said. He pulled back so he could look into her face. "When I said you were dominating that schedule, I didn't mean it like that."

"I know. I'm sorry I overreacted."

"I meant…" His words were firm, certain. "That that schedule has now been thrown out the window. It's being replaced."

A small smile blossomed across her face.

"With what?"

"With something much, much better. You."

* * *

**A/N: Like I said, not entirely happy. But it's the best I'm gonna get I think. **

**And yes, I deliberately wrote it so that the name of the guy is left out (*wink wink*). I did write it with a particular character in mind, but I didn't want to reveal who it was because, as hot and beautiful as the ship is and as much as I ship it, I don't think it would be very well taken. So you are more than welcome to imagine it as whoever your OTP is, or you can try to figure it out, because there are hints as to who this mysterious guy is, and mention it in the reviews (reviews?).**

**One more announcement. I have made a Facebook page called Not Just A Reader - A Fangirl, where I will be posting (hopefully) updates on writing, advice for my fics, and mostly random things and pics that I find funny. And maybe fangirling on there too. So pop over and give me a like! :D**

**Until next time!**


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